Vulnerability
by Chasing.Twilight
Summary: because they always say they don't want to leave him, but they always do.


Just to humour the complete Amy/11 shipper in me. Something small to amuse myself. It breaks my heart they're not together. But it's the little things in each episode that keep me hoping – for instance the way the Doctor looked when Amy told Rory he could go as her brother and he laughed and quickly rearranged his face. There are so many more. Just little things like that. So I'll stop rambling now. Enjoy.

The lyrics are from a song called 'Tonight I Love You' by a band called the Latency.

* * *

The midnight sky was speckled with stars. Amy Pond lay on the grass, her hair splayed around her head, fire dancing with the late night spring dew that covered the ground she lay upon. Her eyes stared unseeing up at the universe, her legs half curled into her body, her hands clasped together on her stomach.

Beside her, lay a timelord with enough tawdry quirks to fill a tawdry quirks shop. He traced the patterns of the constellations with his eyes, unblinking, drinking in the grandeur of what he considered his home. His arms were folded across his chest, his legs out straight but crossed at the ankles. The field they lay in was in the middle of nowhere; only a few lights glittered against the darkness in the far distance. It was silent but for the wind that danced across their faces. It was peaceful.

Not often did the Doctor get to experience peace. Usually he was running away from monsters and saving the universe and generally trying to blot out all the thoughts that ran through his mind – a lot could fit in a timelord's mind at once, you see. It was difficult.

But tonight... tonight felt different. Maybe it was the redhead beside him or maybe it was just the glow of the stars shining down on him but he couldn't help but remind himself not to forget this night. He didn't suppose one like this would come around again anytime soon. And with that thought, he turned his head to his companion and took in her profile; her pale skin, the gentle array of freckles that dotted it, her small nose. He smiled and he didn't really know why. All he knew was that he liked the fact that he smiled without really having a reason, because he had faced too much heartache in his long life and maybe nine hundred and seven years was the asking price to finally find a reason to smile just because.

Amy turned her head to look at him and smiled. "I used to dream about this, when I was a little girl" she said quietly and he considered what it must have taken for her to tell him that, to be that vulnerable. He had far too much experience with holding it all and her honesty – her trust in him, that he wouldn't laugh at her, that she could tell him such a thing – made him want that, too. It burned suddenly, deep within him, and the Doctor was reminded of the other side of Amy Pond; she was all fire and he was, perhaps, ice. But not tonight.

Slowly, very slowly, he lifted a hand and reached out, taking one of hers. She looked a little shocked but he persevered, gently pulling her towards him and fixing her so her head lay upon his chest, her arm wrapped around his waist. He heard her breath in deeply and imagined she was taking in the smell of his tweed jacket, the shirt underneath, his body, the sadness and the weight which he carried under his mask. And even though he was perfectly aware that it may all just be in his head, he felt relief rush over him, hit him like a tidal wave. He had allowed himself to be vulnerable, with the smallest gesture, but he knew Amy Pond would understand. After all, she had known that the StarWhale would not leave. She'd walked blind through a forest of weeping angels. She'd lived in a house with a monster for her entire life. If anyone could understand, Amelia Pond could.

"It's strange" he mused, quietly, so not to ruin the perfectness of their embrace "that you should be so perplexed that five minutes to me is fourteen years to you. After all, your life span is like the blink of an eye to me. I don't age, I just change."

"So you're like a really fit granddad" she mumbled into his shirt and bit her lip to hide her smile as she felt his stomach muscles tighten and loosen as he laughed.

"Something like that."

"Huh."

A silence fell between them. The Doctor's arms were wrapped around Amy's upper body and they subconsciously tightened as she squirmed around a little, trying to look up at the stars.

"I just want to see what you see" she whispered. The Doctor brushed her hair back from her face and didn't say anything. He was trying not to remember Rory and the life she eventually must to get back to because they always say they don't want to leave him, but they always do.

"Someone did that once" he replied, remembering Donna "that's not something that can ever happen again."

Amy sighed. "Then can we stay here? There's nothing bad about this."

And he thought about Rory and Leadworth and the Silence and the crack in Amelia Pond's wall and the ten other lives he had led and then he closed that box, locked it tight, and threw away the key.

"Yes. We have a time machine, Amy Pond. We can stay here forever."

_Tell me that chance hasn't passed us by  
cause baby the stars have never shined so bright  
nothing can touch us out here._


End file.
